Here to finish me off, sweetheart?
by sisypheandreamer
Summary: A short drabble from the first book. Peeta POV.


**Author's Note: **_Obvious disclaimers including the plot and the characters. I'm not Suzanne Collins and everything that goes with her name is not mine, et cetera. I just couldn't get this out of mind so I hope you enjoy this short little drabble that I wrote at 11:46PM._

"_Both tributes in the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive."_

_The last two alive._

_The last two._

_Two._

The trumpets are still ringing in my ears and all I can see is darkness and the shadows of the things around me. I would be an easy target for anyone now, even her. I hoped it didn't have to be her who kills me. I had hoped that I would have died honourably – for her. Everything I did in this arena was to protect her, to get her home.

I thought the trumpets were taking me, opening the doors to Heaven, telling me I had done everything I could possibly do. Only Heaven did not have her and I would not have that. As if God had answered my prayers for me, the announcement came. Two. Two of the same district could win. It was for us. We changed the rule – it had to be for us. I could bring her home. I could make her safe. I could-

"_Peeta!"_

Was that her? Of course it was her, who else would be calling for me? But it was her. Dear God, it was her. She was calling for me. She was calling – for _me_. My lips felt like lead to move and I could only whisper the only word, the only thing, the only person that gave me hope.

"_Katniss_."

I barely heard my voice as I said it but the moment I did, I felt stronger. She was looking for me. I had to find her. The bushes and trees around me keep me safe at the moment. They surround me and welcome me around them, as if I was a part of the forest. I've heard nothing in the forest, nothing since she said my name. All the cameras must be on her now. All of Panem is watching her look for me.

_Keep calling for me. Keep looking. I'm right here, Katniss. I'm right here._

My stomach growls as I sink deeper within the bushels around me. I fight to keep my eyelids open. I fight to keep myself awake, listening for any sign of her. I can smell the blood from my own leg, festering with rotten flesh, but even the disgust won't help me stay awake. I chant her name in my head, forcing myself to remember that she could come from anywhere at any time. She was looking for me and I needed her to find me.

I pant in short, shallow breaths. I can feel my eyelids fluttering down, losing the battle to exhaustion. I'm afraid that I won't wake up in the morning. But I will. I have to. I fall asleep to the sound of the night around me and my own whispers, chanting only one thing as if it was some magic mantra that would lead her to me.

_Katniss. Katniss. Katniss. Katniss. Katniss. Katnis- Katni- Kat- Ka- K- … Ka- … Ka- …_

I wake up to the sound of rustling leaves.

My eyes open immediately, peering through the leaves that are my only shelter. I listen for voices, for the familiar wave of metal slicing through the air. That's what Cato always does. He cuts through the air, as if it were his own enemy, always waiting for an enemy. I remember that blade well. I can feel it against my leg just by the mere thought of it.

It's not, though. It's just a rabbit.

If I was Katniss, I would have that rabbit skinned by now. She had hunting down to science. It was obvious that between us, before the rule change, she was the one who would last long. By the looks of my leg, I'd be lucky to survive another day. The thoughts of slipping into unconsciousness breaks into my mind again – sleeping and never waking up. An easy death.

I almost do until I remember that same voice from the night.

"_Peeta!_"

Her voice is still strong in my memory. She was looking for me. She's still looking for me. I swallow down whatever is in my mouth and I feel a dry patch on my tongue. I haven't eaten anything in days. I can't remember when the last time I had a drink was.

_Stay alive, Mellark. Stay alive for her._

I dragged myself out of the bushes, careful that there was no one around me. My leg ached at the sudden movement but I had to make due. I was limping, gripping on to trees as I walked. I had to find her. If she was looking for me, I had to look for her. I didn't need food or water or medicine. I needed her. I needed to know that she was alive, that she was safe.

It was freezing.

The sun was beating down on in like crazy but my blood felt like ice. I was shivering and I held on to trees for dear life. I was weak. I remember marvelling at Katniss on how she knew that I wrestled, knew that I could lift heavy bags of flour, knew that she knew me, knew that she acknowledged my existence. The irony of that. A leaf would knock me over at how weak I was now.

My breath was shallower and heavier than I remember it being. My eyelids were drooping, my muscles aching, and fresh blood trickled from the cut on my leg. I had to drag myself away from where I was. I didn't know where I was anymore. I just knew that I wasn't with her and I needed to be.

What felt like hours passed and no luck. I don't know where I am. I know that I'm near the steam where she last saw me.

_The stream_.

I'm so tired that I'm delirious enough to forget about the stream. I make myself limp over to where I think I hear the water. I fall to my knees under my weight and I drag myself to the water.

The mud around me feels good compared to the freezing feeling on my skin, though I can feel the blistering heat. I feel the sun around me and the warmth but in my skin, there's nothing but ice and fire. I know I have a fever. I know I'm probably delirious. I know that I'm going to die today if I don't find her. Or if she doesn't find me.

I cup water into my hands and force myself to drink. Not too much, just enough to give myself enough to hydrate myself with. I roll myself in mud. I lift my arms weakly to the mud around me, splashing it onto every patch of skin and cloth I can find and reach. I take moss and cover parts of myself with it. I take everything I can and make myself into the ground.

I don't know if I'm going to last the day.

I probably won't.

But as I lay there hidden in the ground, I know I've done all I can. I don't think about my family, even though I should, even for just a minute. I don't think about the people I've killed. I don't think about the mud around me or if I'm concealed enough. My thoughts are about her. I close my eyes, cover them with mud, and think of her.

She'll be okay. She'll be fine. She'll win. There are only six of us left. She has her arrows. No one stands a chance against my girl. She's _my_ girl. She's my bet. She always has been, since the day I first saw her. My girl who took my heart from me. My girl who made my heart hurt when she lay there, across from me, sitting in the pouring rain, waiting to die. My girl who volunteered for her sister. My girl who wasn't even mine.

She would win. She'll be in the Victor's Village, living life with her mother and sister. She might feel pity for my death, pity me which might be the closest thing I'll ever have to her loving me. Maybe she'll give my father a certain comfort in his life. She'll probably marry Hawthorne. Did she even want children? She would make a wonderful mother. I know she would, the way she's so protective over her sister. Sometimes I wish I was Primrose Everdeen, the only person that Katniss loves. I wonder what it's like to be loved by Katniss Everdeen. I rest easily, thinking of Katniss and the life she'll have when she wins the Games.

Of course she'll win. My beautiful, strong, fierce girl.

I close my eyes to sleep. To die. To die for her would be the greatest death I could think of. I nod off, thinking of her face, of her long braided her, of the lips I'll never get to kiss, and the eyes that are the colour of hurricanes. I'm falling asleep with only her in mind, the voices in my head whispering _Katniss. Katniss. Katniss._

"Peeta!" says a soft whisper.

My lips curve to a smile as I remember that voice, her voice saying my name. I love the way she says my name. I love the way it sounds from her.

"Peeta!" I hear again.

My eyelids open just a bit, just to see. I hear a small rustle of leaves near me, someone slowly and carefully trotting through the woods. That can't be right. Maybe I'm dead. Maybe I'm a ghost still in the arena, still watching over her even in this life. I can see myself doing that. Waiting for her on the other side. I hear no cannon announcing my death, telling me I'm not alive. The pain in my leg confirms that.

I open my eyes to find her there. Katniss. _My_ Katniss.

And she's looking for me.

She's found me.

And maybe, just maybe.

We can survive this together.

Maybe, just maybe.

She's so close now. She's brilliant. She's done it. She's found me. I find myself unable to move. The mud around me has solidified. But I don't care. Nothing matters. Nothing matters but her.

I open my eyes and think of what Haymitch told me. I told him that I wanted her alive. That if anyone should get out of that arena, it's her. Haymitch would save her. And now that she's here, now that we can, maybe he can spare me.

I open my mouth to speak, bits of mud falling into my mouth. It take a deep breath, the mud around my lips cracking at my attempt to smile.

"_Here to finish me off, sweetheart?_"


End file.
